


Worthless

by ma_r



Category: EXO, Kpop - Fandom
Genre: Angst, BaekYeol - Freeform, EXO - Freeform, EXOK - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6205201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ma_r/pseuds/ma_r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Worthless, that is how Byun Baekhyun felt.<br/>Worthless, was what they told him he was.<br/>Worhless, was everything he didn't was.</p><p> </p><p>TRIGGER WARNING:<br/>self-harm</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthless

**Author's Note:**

> Narrated from Chanyeol's point of view.

It was friday morning, a lovely day for a funeral, the sun was shinning, the crocodile tears were spilling and I was getting ready to read an eulogy about my best friend, Byun Baekhyun

A skinny priest was talking, saying how much he was loved by everyone and how much he was going to be missed, I started shaking on my sit, bullshit, every single word the priest was saying was bullshit, the people around me were nodding in agreement , as if what the priest was saying actually makes sense, like it was true; bunch of hypocrites. We wouldn’t be here if it was not for them, he died because of them. 

The priest was calling me, it’s time for me to talk about how he was a great person and say words of comfort to those that had killed him, and I was ready, oh so ready to do exactly that.

Climbing the stairs was the worst thing I have ever done, because when I reached the top and looked to my left, just a foot away from me was the casket in which my best friend, my only love, was going to be laid to rest, it was a beautiful black, the same black as his hair. 

And with my hands shaking I start with the eulogy:

"When they asked me to speak about Baekhyun, I cried, and screamed and I smiled, and I broke. But I’m here now, and I’m going to tell you all about him, the guy we all saw but no one knew, no one but me” 

I look up from the paper that was shaking in my hands, some people are listening to me, some (if not most) are texting, or daydreaming and it pisses me off. 

“My best friend was the type of person that could stay up all night long drawing and writing poems, he enjoyed black coffee and slow music, when we went to the movies, he always ordered popcorn with nacho cheese, it was disgusting, he really liked the color red, because it represented love, and he thought that love was something he never had but everything he needed, he used to-“ my voice breaks, and my tears cloud my vision, I stop for a moment to breath, and then I continue. “ He used smoked two packs of cigarettes a day and before every cigarette he promised me it was his last, I guess he finally fulfilled his promise.” I chuckled, almost hysterically. “He collected soda caps that he found on the floor, and all the pennies he found ended up at the bottom of a wishing fountain.” 

Taking a deep breath, I looked up, searching the eyes of my boyfriend's older brother, he was gripping the bench, his knuckles turning white, his eyes looked almost vacant, the tears pooling in his eyes the only indication of his emotions, and I tried to understand what he felt, I really did, but nothing I could think about could amount to the pain of loosing a little brother, or the confusion it would bring to try to picture a world without him, or even the hurt of realising that a little part of himself had been taken away, that the voice of his brother would never ring against his ears again. He lost his little brother, he lost a friend and he had lost himself. 

I dried my tears and I started reading again.

“Not many knew that he volunteered every Sunday at the animal center, where he saved all kinds of animals and did all kind of disgusting jobs, or that on Tuesdays he went to the nursing home, and took care of most of your grandparents, he used to sing to them, and feed them when they couldn’t hold the spoon, he also went to the child’s hospital and brought toys and new games for the kids.

“Many of you, if not all, also didn’t know that after long day, where everything he did was help others, or write poems, after his day where he tried to stay away from trouble, by 2:30 in the morning he had his wrist open and he watched his blood drip down his wrist as they stained his white bathroom floor. That by 2:35 in the morning he tried his hardest not to cry loudly so his parents wouldn’t wake up, that by 2:40 he was cleaning the blood off his wrist and floor, and he covered his cuts with a make-believe bandage” Shock was evident on the faces of those hypocrites “Many of you probably also didn’t know, that he used to call me every day at 2:45 in the morning only so he could tell me how much he wished he could be dead. He listened to all the reasons I gave him of why he needed to live. But apparently the reasons I gave him weren’t enough for him. ”

I paused for a moment, and let a couple of tears slip down my face and I mustered the courage to look at his parents.

His mother was not moving, she was not even blinking, her eyes that used to shine with laughter where devoid of every emotion but despair, her skin was so pale, almost the same color of chalk. And I realised she looked like that because of me, she hadn’t know that her baby wanted to die, that he craved words of hate in his skin, and with a start I realised that the only thing about her moving where her lips, forming words, only three words, over and over again. ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry’

His father was bitting his lip, a thin line of blood the only indication of the strength of his bite, he was clutching his wife’s hand hard enough that her fingers where red, and his eyes, contrary to the ones of his wife, where so full of emotion, so full of loathing, that I knew was only directed to himself, and I understood that he blamed himself, tears were running down his face, he didn’t clean them, he didn’t move, and I could see that he was broken beyond repair and that he would never smile the same way he used to. 

And I understood the extent of my Baekhyun’s action’s, he didn’t only kill himself, he also broke his family, forcing them to try and live without a vital part of it, his family will forever be looking miss a black haired boy, with rimmed eyes and a smile that could light up a room. 

More tears dripped down my face and with my voice breaking I continued.

“He hated himself, but every morning he whore a mask, a mask he used to fool all of you into thinking he was happy, that the words you said to him didn’t matter. But if someone had paid any attention and looked for more than a second into his eyes, one could see the pain they tried to hide. He hid it so well that none of you stopped to think that the words you whispered to him took a toll, that when you called him stupid, fat, fag, idiot, you never even imagined that the words would continue to run on his mind until he could cut them over and over again in his skin; But that is not the worst of it, no, you had to take everything to the next level and call him worthless, oh that was the word that hurt him the most, before any of you started calling him that he already thought he was, so he thought you were only confirming it, in his mind you all could see that he was useless and not needed, that he was everything people hated, that he was worthless.

“You guys probably didn’t know that he adopted a street kitten, or that he rescued half of the dogs that are now your pets, after all you guys all adopted them form the animal shelter where he volunteered. But at the same time, you also didn’t know that he donated all his savings to the dying arts club, or that he was the guy who left a rose on everybody’s locker on Valentine’s Day, not wanting anybody to go around without a rose, because he knew what it felt to be all alone, he understood what it meant not to receive a token of love, of friendship, in the day where it was meant to be celebrated the love you felt for others, and the love others had for you.

“And you definitely don’t know that, that same day he killed himself he went around the school looking for someone that cared about him, he asked every single person that was in school, every single one of the students he knew, he asked for what they thought of him, he asked, but he only found one answer that drove him to the edge: worthless.

"Most of you also probably didn’t know that I was the one that found him hanging on the door of his bathroom, dead, just hanging there motionless, and that my whole word shattered when everything I had ever known, loved, was just hanging there by a thick rope. There was a tinny note pasted on the side of the door, a note that only had five words: ‘’I’m happy now, I’m sorry." I broke down, I cried, I screamed, my heart broke into million pieces; I wished everything was a dream, I did everything, but nothing I did was able to bring him back. He was dead.

“I will always wonder, why didn’t he asked me what I thought of him?, If I had to answer whit only a word, I would have said that he was perfect, that he was needed, that he was everything I wanted to be. But he never asked, and know I will never get the chance to tell him.

“I never got the chance to tell him how much I loved his poems, I never got to tell him that I had his green leather jacket, I never told him how ridiculous handsome he looked with his eyeliner, or that I was proud of him, I never told him that when I meet him in French class during our sophomore year I was so awe struck because he seemed so cool. I didn’t tell him that his habit of chewing his thumb was disgusting, or that his habit of stopping everything he was doing when he heard a craw was incredibly hilarious. I didn’t get to tell him that I still had that stupid rubber band he gave me claiming that it had magic powers, I didn’t tell him that I knew he cheated on poker and that I cheated on monopoly, that his cat got sick when he asked me to take care of him. I didn’t tell him I was the one that broke his Xbox or that I was the one that fixed his computer. I didn’t tell him that his fetish for redheads was weird, I didn’t tell him that I dreamed of him constantly and that in my dreams he was always dressed in pink. I didn’t get the chance to tell him, he was the most important person in my life. I didn’t get to tell him I love you enough times. I didn’t get to tell him happy twenty four birthday.”

With the last of my strength I turn around and put my shaking hand on top of the black casket and I whisper.

“I am going to miss you, I love you, I’m sorry.”

And I walked, and walked, until I was outside the cemetery, until I was at the middle of the street and I stopped, and I looked into the sky, and I saw him there, smiling, waving, his eyes sparkling and I knew he was calling me, so I didn’t move. Not even when the black car speeded closer and closer to me.


End file.
